


I touch myself (I want me to touch me)

by theclaravoyant



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Clones, F/F, Masterbation, PWP, Science shenanigans, Selfcest, Technically?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-27 11:43:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10019138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theclaravoyant/pseuds/theclaravoyant
Summary: Daisy can't resist the temptation to see what the clone machine (and her clone) can do for her.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Femslash Feb is coming to an end (no pun intended), but I still take prompts in the comments below or on tumblr (@theclaravoyant) just be mindful that I may not fulfil them as quickly as I have been doing recently due to other priorities including the return of university classes.
> 
> Title from 'I Touch Myself' by the Divinyls. The line is actually "i want YOU to touch me" but I figured this was more appropriate ;)
> 
> In the meantime, enjoy!

the clone machine also appears in [this fic (Simmorse)](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/ApplePie_BananaMilkshakes/works/9799604)

-

Daisy was smiling. 

It was a smile that glinted with anticipation, with promise. It was a smile that made the person looking want to lick their own lips, or hers – to taste that promise. It was a smile that lived in her eyes in a hungrier, darker, more dangerous form that said _what are we going to do next?_

It was very much like the one Daisy had been wearing moments earlier, but that had since disappeared under an awestruck gasp as she studied this perfect copy of herself. Gone were her perpetual bruises, always somewhere. Gone were the imperfections in her skin. She stood before a perfect, amplified, polished version of herself – and that perfect, amplified, polished woman was looking at her like _that._

“Like what you see?” the Daisy-clone wondered, though the crook in her eyebrow gave away that she knew the answer.

Daisy walked around her copy slowly, drinking her in. The curve of her back (damn her legs looked good these days). The strength of her shoulders (she could carry herself, easy). The shorn-off hair that danced at the back of her neck, some of it a little frizzed and some a little stuck down from the humidity of the machine, that had left her skin sparkling. (Perfect, Daisy thought, for running her fingers through and pulling at). 

“Hey, my eyes are over here, princess,” Daisy-clone pressed. “And I think one of us is a little overdressed, don’t you?”

As Daisy rounded back to the front of the room, her clone eyed her sharply, like she was about to pounce. Gasping, the air suddenly warm, Daisy reached for the hem of her shirt without thinking, and only once she’d pulled it up over her bra for a moment did she realise. 

“We can’t do this here!” 

“Then where _can_ we do it?” 

She couldn’t have asked for a better response – no hesitation, just determination - and she felt giddy as she scramblef around to find something her other self could wear. They settled on a lab coat, though by the time they’d found it they barely had the patience to do up two press-studs. Holding it shut, Daisy-clone bit her lip as the original led the way outside and scampered down the hall. It felt like college, like sneaking around. It felt like coming home late. The challenge made it all the more thrilling. 

They burst into Daisy’s room, beaming at their success even as Daisy pressed her clone back against the door. The lab coat fell open. Fingers touched her bare stomach, warm and real, and moved down her hips and down. 

Daisy-clone laughed as her body curled back against the door, lifting itself toward the fingers that sought to explore it. She held her arms up so the lab coat opened more, and Daisy’s pupils blew wide as she studied herself. 

“Mm,” Daisy-clone murmured. “You haven’t thought about this at _all.”_

Daisy snorted, and slipped two fingers in and bit her lip as Daisy-clone gasped. 

“Thinking about it’s what makes it _good,”_ she purred. It was like playing an instrument. 

“To a point,” Daisy-clone amended, and to punctuate it, pushed Daisy’s shoulders back. Daisy pulled her fingers away in surprise and confusion but she kept going, she moved back as Daisy-clone’s touch instructed, until she dropped down onto the bed and her clone climbed over her. Daisy-clone kissed her hard and fast on the lips, sucking the air from her in a rush, and then made her way down her neck to her collarbone, where she nipped lightly, and kissed and sucked until Daisy’s toes curled. 

She laughed, deep and victorious. 

“Now that’s what I’m talking about.” 

With a tug on her lapel, Daisy pulled her clone’s attention back up to her lips. Meanwhile, under the jacket, she and the clone worked in unison, dancing around each other, to undo her belt and dance her pants down her legs. At last, they flew away – at least as far as the Daisies were concerned – and Daisy opened her legs wider, begging for attention. 

“It’s always different when somebody else does it, isn’t it?” Daisy-clone purred, running her hands up and down Daisy’s body as if she was intentionally ignoring her begging legs. “More sensual, more real somehow. More _electric.”_

Daisy felt a shock run through her as her clone’s fingers danced over her clit all of a sudden. Where had the air come from? Where had her panties gone? Had she been so distracted by her own touch?

(But not her own.) 

“You’re _real.”_ She threw her head back, and it came out more guttural than she’d meant it. Daisy-clone was right; it was more electric, more surprising, because even though they shared the same minds they weren’t reading each other’s; they couldn’t quite predict each other, but they knew how to satisfy each other. 

“Sit up, take your shirt off,” Daisy-clone ordered, the fingers of one hand still busy at Daisy’s pussy while her other hand – somewhat distracted – tried to help her undress. In the end, Daisy tossed her shirt away and studied her bra. Cute, simple, black. She hadn’t been planning on showing it off, but it wasn’t one of her worst, thankfully. Not that Daisy-clone, two fingers deep and accelerating, seemed to mind. She nodded at the bra. 

“That too,” she said, and Daisy bit her lip as she unclipped it, and felt her centre coiling and coiling and her breasts burst free, bouncing as her body shook with Daisy-clone’s pumping fingers. 

“Now you’re ready,” Daisy-clone said, and pulled her fingers away leaving Daisy’s open legs bare in a rush of cold. Only, Daisy’s mind was catching onto her clone’s plan, and her mouth went dry in anticipation and her cheeks flushed and she rested herself back on her arms as she watched her clone pull off the impeding lab coat, and knot the legs of their now nude bodies together, so that their clits practically kissed. 

“Oh, shit,” Daisy hissed, closing her eyes. It had been so, so long since she’d done this, since she’d had anyone else at all, let alone another pussy near hers, giving her that smooth, sparking, hissing, slapping, electric bliss. 

“Mm, I know what you want,” her clone purred. “I know you’ve been wanting this for so long, haven’t you…” 

Daisy nodded, trying to adjust to get more friction, more contact, more kiss, and her clone adjusted too, until air and flesh and slick became one, hot and sticky and desirous. The air Daisy breathed was hot and sticky too, and she felt the tingling in her flesh, just like the world had felt when she’d first awoken to its vibrations. Only, the world hadn’t sent her spinning, spinning, spinning higher and kept a check on her, like it could catch her. The world hadn’t made her gasp for air and love it at the same time. When the world made her crash it was into despair, but this – 

This was into awesome bliss, the thrilling sort that accompanied an accomplishment. It was like falling off the trapeze from joyful exhaustion and careening into the net, and bouncing and bouncing and bouncing until the momentum wore off. It was like being guided back down by her own fingers, more gentle now as they pulled and rubbed and pumped the last of her cum from her throbbing body. As she quivered to a halt they slowed and gentled – her own fingers, but not her own, and the face that bore them was smug and satisfied at the same time. 

“I’ll give it to you, girl,” Daisy-clone praised, smiling down at Daisy’s sweaty, panting face and mussed hair and flushed body. “You certainly know what you want.” 

This seemed to spark something in Daisy, a resurgence, a promise from earlier but doubled now. A _challenge._

“I want _you,”_ she growled, and climbed over her clone to pleasure the smug smirk off her face.


End file.
